True Faith
by TheResurrectionist
Summary: A night of horror tears a soul away from his angel, sending the very fabric of the world into despair. Debriel soulmate!AU for Angelicaldevil, who really really wanted debriel. WIP.


A/N For Angelicaldevil, my beta, who really really wanted debriel. I'm sorry if this wasn't what you expected, terrible, weird or all of the above. Unfamiliar ships constitute unfamiliar territory. I wrote one of my favorite tags for you, so hopefully you like it, even if it is weird AU historical and such. I took a break from For Your Applause, which should be updated on Friday, crossed fingers.

Please enjoy, regardless. There needs to be more debriel writers out there.

* * *

Gabriel wakes to the feeling of an all-consuming warmth, at peace in between wakefulness and sleepy content.

A deceptively innocent hand curls over his hip, tickling lightly until he has to roll over to hide the smile the sensation brings him. The sheets rustle around the bed, and curiosity shifts to amusement as a warm body rests on top of his chest.

"I would've rather just kept sleeping." He murmurs to his partner, eyes still closed, mouth turning up at the corners.

A low laugh rings out, enchanting and melodic. "And you would've slept the day away."

Gabriel opens his eyes to find his lover on top of him, pressed chest to chest, bare skin intoxicatingly close. He chuckles

"Then how am I supposed to get up now?"

Playful green eyes find his, and his lover smirks, running a hand down his naked shoulder. "You're smart. You'll figure it out."

"Hmmm."

Dean smiles even wider, using his taller frame to push him into the bed. "Even if you're short."

"Short!" Gabriel sputters, reaching hands up to tangle in his hair. "I'll show you short, keeper of my heart! I've taken on thousands of monsters-leagues of terrifying beasts!"

Dean laughed again, leaning forward to lay a kiss on his protesting lips. "And not a single one dared to demean your size, of course. I've heard this one before." He ruffles his hair. "But is the ever-valiant soldier ready to eat?"

Gabriel nods, but doesn't reply, content to bask in the presence of his equal. Their teasing had long become uniform for them; something that had always drawn him to the other man. A spark seemed to live in his eyes, drawn to the front with every laugh and silly name.

Dean waits a few moments before gently disentangling, wrapping a white robe around his shoulders as he walks toward the door of their home. "I'll be back soon."

"Chicken again?" Gabriel pouts, making sure Dean can see the expression clearly. "And for once, I thought your cooking would excite me."

Dean raises a eyebrow, staring him down fiercely. "Beggars can't be choosers. I'd like to see you get your own dinner for once."

"But that would require _getting up!_"Gabriel protested, to the amusement of his lover, laughter trailing his form as he pauses, opening the door.

A low sun was just setting in the sky, flashing dark red as his lover went outside, catching pale flesh in an orange glow. Gabriel leans back, enjoying the sight, mind on nothing but the all-consuming happiness being here gave him. There was nothing more heavenly, nothing more divine than this. Even Heaven had been different, less tangible somehow. More lonely, perhaps.

Once the sheets cooled he felt restless, grabbing a robe and walking to the door. Dean should have been back by now, if gathering eggs was his task. The sun had disappeared, cloaked in the mountains of the west and shadowed by the forests that surrounded their home.

"Dean?" He calls, tying the robe as he shoulders out the door. "I give up. I'll make dinner. You don't have to hide, darling."

He walks uncertainly to the chicken coop, darkness unsettling between his shoulder blades.

"Dean!" He tries again, but there's no hint of his presence anywhere. There's nothing but forest for miles in either direction, people even farther away.

The trees around the house look threatening, shadows taller than they should be tonight on midsummer, but they don't impress him. He throws down the walls of his mind desperately, panic rising in his throat as his calls go unanswered, grace shifting under his skin.

"Dean!"

A moment later he can feel him, a hazy emotion on the edges of his senses. He sprints towards the river where he felt the reverberations of pain, panic fueling a dark fear in his belly.

He finds his lover's form kneeling, white robe wrapped around too-still shoulders as he gazes down to the ever below. All Gabriel can feel is relief, racing forwards as his cries seem to fall on deaf ears.

"Dean, look at me-" He puts a hand on his partner's shoulder, gasping as glassy green eyes find his. A world-ending feeling of terror grips Gabriel as he sees the dark stain on the pure white robe, stretching crimson across the skin he'd just worshipped.

"Gabriel." Dean chokes out, lips white. He sees now, in a snatch outside of time, the tied hands, the fear in the other man's eyes.

The _warning_.

"No!" He screams, but it's too late. Strange hands pull Dean away, trapping Gabriel in the crude circle cut into the ground, tearing his lover away from him. He hears noises but can't process them, arms outstretched to heal the deadly wound he can still see from afar on Dean's robe.

"-must go-" Someone mutters, and out of the corner of his eye he can see the strange forms of this group, these strangers, these _murderers_.

"-the god-child-"

Another interrupts. "-he has _dishonored_ us-"

Gabriel growls menacingly, stalking to the outer edge of the circle as the shadowy figures move backwards nervously. "Give him back. Now!"

His orders are ignored. "-request-"

"A request?" He shouts in panic, eyes shifting for the slightest second off of Dean. "Let me out and I'll grant whatever wish you want. Please!"

"Use his blood." The leader of the group points at Dean, still strung between two of the shadow-people. "A request is granted through blood, pagan."

"I'll go without this time!" He screams, desperate. "Tell me what you want, please!"

"This will take time." The leader eyes him steadily. "Calm yourself, God, before I take measures I usually would not."

"How about you release what's mine first." Gabriel's fury radiates from every pore. His eyes burn gold, and the brief second of regret he feels at the surprise in Dean's eyes is swept away as the stain on his lover's chest grows larger.

"_Kwonista!_" The strange leader shouts in an unfamiliar language. "Pour the oil, pour the oil!"

Two servants carrying pots rush forwards, laying a circle of oil over the one in the ground. A spark lights it, bringing the familiar smell of holy oil too Gabriel's nose as he backs up a few steps.

"Now." The leader rubs his hands together. "We bargain, God."

"Fix him!" He points at Dean, who watches him with duller eyes by the second, mouth moving soundlessly.

"He is _ntkeriak_, unclean." The man dismisses the request with a wave of his hand. "He who sleeps with gods for secrets deserves death."

"You speak ill of my mate again, and I'll make your death a gruesome one." Gabriel threatens, wings flaring unseen behind him as he walks to the edge of the circle.

Dean coughs weakly as they stare at each other, blood trailing down the side of his chin. He has minutes, maybe seconds left-

"Please!" He begs, getting down to his knees even as his pride screams at him to stand, to _fight_. "I'll do anything. Damn you, anything!"

He goes breathless as Dean's eyes fall closed, body slumping in the hands of their captors. A low, keening wail builds to a scream of rage inside of him. With a rush of desperation he pushes through the tall flames, hands burning with oil as he moves in slow-motion to Dean.

The people grab at him, pulling his body back as he fights towards his mate. He reaches one hand out, slamming the burned, oil-covered palm onto Dean's shoulder, grace flaring so brightly it stings even his eyes.

With a rising buzzing sound enveloping the clearing, everything goes blank in a flash of pure white light.

* * *

He wakes to the feeling of rain this time, sliding down burned flesh and grace. A weak moan escapes his lips as he pries his eyes open, vision blurry.

Piles of ash surround him, dissolving into the dirt as the rain pummels down from above. He pays no attention to them as he stumbles over to Dean, tears joining the rain on his face as he finds the pale, slumped form.

"No no no no no." He says quickly, hands shaking, drawing lines of blood and soot across his lover's face. "NO!"

A handprint rests where his hand had met skin, raised as a fierce burn across the shoulder. He shakes Dean weakly, but no feeling of life reaches him.

With a moan, he reaches out blindly through his tears, hand connecting with the mark as if it had drawn his palm there. A cry of despair escapes he pushes all of his grace there, exploding his power outwards in a supernova of energy that destroys the forests around him in seconds.

_He sees a tall man in a leather jacket, green eyes hard where they were kind before, jaw fierce and hair cropped close. He reaches out, tries to grab the ghost, but it's far, so far away. Years. Millenia. He opens his mouth to speak, eyes burning even further, but it's pulled away. _

Dizzy on power and grief, he slumps forward, head falling to rest on his lover's neck, sobbing brokenly. White fades to black as everything finally goes dark.

* * *

A/N Thanks for reading. I'll be back to FYA by Friday, hopefully. This could be a longer story if someone wanted to adopt it...? :)


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